


Three-Legged Race

by vindiya



Series: Marvel Fluff Bingo 2018 [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Lewis Family Reunion, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, This is crack, but i love the headcanon that Dan Lewis and Darcy Lewis are cousins, i have not seen Venom and Dan is only the same in name, like i said this is crack, marvelfluffbingo round 1, pretend the winter soldier was given an education on how to blend in in various social situations, square filled: free space, stretching the realm of believability
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-01 17:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17248349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vindiya/pseuds/vindiya
Summary: The Winter Soldier is regaining his memories. He's escaped HYDRA and the wreckage of Project Insight in the Potomac River. He hasn't escaped the goons chasing him though. And in order to do so he's playing boyfriend to a pretty little brunette named Darcy that recognized he was in trouble and helped no questions asked. This can only end badly right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for marvelfluffbingo Round 1 on tumblr. I just had a couple lines of dialogue in my head and this was born. Ironically, the lines of dialogue I had in my head didn’t even make it into the fic, but they got me writing so I guess they did the trick. Happy reading everyone. And for those that have already seen midnight Happy New Year.

“Come on dude it’s our turn,” The brunette grabs his arm. Doesn’t even notice that it doesn’t have the same give as a flesh and blood hand. She doesn’t even seem to notice the way he stiffens waiting for her reaction before relaxing when she carries on like nothing is amiss.

She glances back and shoots him the widest smile he’s seen in a long time. Doesn’t matter that they’re strangers pairing up to keep numbers even for the games played at this insane function. A function he crashed but she was quick to welcome him and help him hide in. He’d been running for weeks after Washington D.C. Running from both his memories and pursuers alike. It didn’t matter which he didn’t want to remember, and he didn’t want to go back, but he was only succeeding at one of those two things so far and the flashes of memory he would get were coming more often.

He let’s the girl with the floppy hat and over sized t-shirt drag him to starting line. He tries not to go completely still as a young boy of all of seven bends down to tie their ankles together. Something that she covers up with an easy laugh and a ruffle to the boy’s head.

“Don’t worry about it he’s a little weird about strangers in his personal space,” She explains with a nudge to his side.

“Yeah sorry,” he tries though judging by her snort his attempt at looking apologetic is terrible and makes the kid crack a smile before scampering away.

“We win this, and you owe me a name and a story dude.”

He glances down at her the way her hair surrounds her face in a riotous mass, the teasing quirk of her mouth, and the twinkle in her eyes behind her black framed glasses.

“Okay doll, but gotta say you hit the nail on the head with James.”

If it weren’t for the serum, he wouldn’t have heard the whistle over her sputtering. Three-legged races weren’t something he was familiar with, but he got the point as the other’s took off. It was a teamwork exercise. They had to make it across working together. And while her family was doing their best to keep their balance and make it to the finish James pressed her close to his side and started off semi dragging her feet along with him.

Darcy caught up after a few steps trying to keep up with his longer gait until finally she just did this weird kick step thing to match pace. He didn’t even notice they won until she dug her feet in to slow them down as best she could. He could get going and once he did it could get difficult for others to get him to stop at times.

“We won James, you can cool it unless you really want to draw attention,” she says and that helps bring him to short stop. One that if he hadn’t been holding Darcy to his side she would have gone falling right on her face and that would have been a shame.

He glances back and nearly thirty yards back is the finish line. The other teams are staring at them in various points between the start and finish. He hadn’t meant to make quite that much of an impression when she introduced him as her boyfriend, James who miraculously managed to get the day off after all.

“Sorry about that,” he starts rubbing the back of his head.

“Are you kidding. I never win that thing. This is a _big_ deal.” She bounces on her feet and then her mouth is crushed to his and he nearly pulls back from the shock, except his training kicks in. Their playing parts, kissing is expected. Especially in such a situation the cold clinical voices of his many handlers are telling him in the back of his head. Relax, kiss back, play the part.

He does and he’s sure that the breathlessness she’s experiencing is her fault.

“Uh I think you may have just ruined me for any future boyfriends.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles disentangling himself and getting to work on untying them.

“Don’t be that was worth it. But you still owe me a story.”

“Sure thing Darcy. Later though?”

He doesn’t need to see her face to know she’s pouting down at him. He can hear it in her affirmative answer. Hard to give her a story when he only has pieces of it to start with. He gets them untied and they start back to her family, hand in hand. He tries not to twitch at the feel of her fingers entwined with his. Tries not to think about how his other arm would interpret the signals. Not the time.

“That was very impressive young man,” her father starts, and he smiles sheepishly.

“I guess I’m a little more competitive than Darcy let on huh?” He laughs trying to find some semblance of accurate in his behavior. It’s not easy. He was usually the blunt force instrument not the scalpel for taking care of HYDRA’s problems.

“I guess so. Come on let’s get some cake to celebrate my girl’s first victory since she was eight.” He claps James on the back and heads toward the buffet table they set up in the park. Family members following seemingly satisfied with his explanation and well it must be nice to see Darcy finally break her long-standing losing streak.

“You’ve lost every year since you were eight?” He asks quietly to which she rolls her eyes.

“Can it.”

“Understood.” He quips and follows her to desserts.

He’s thankful for her efforts to help hide him, no questions asked but it can’t last. James knows that better than anyone. And despite having kept up a vigilant watch on the area of the park that Darcy’s family was holding their reunion, he misses the arrival of a few HYDRA goons in the surrounding trees. When he does notice he curses under his breath. He’s sandwiched between Darcy and her little cousin Jessica while her older cousin Dan is regaling them all with some science tale. And despite all that Darcy must have heard as she presses into his side.

“What’s wrong?”

“Gotta go doll,” he whispers back shifting his position, so Jessica is leaning on her mother and he’s free to get up.

He’s careful about it. Rises in a fluid motion and only stops because Dan is no longer speaking.

“Sorry, works calling. It was nice meeting everyone.” He offers hoping no one questions his lack of a cell phone or it ringing. If they do, he hopes Darcy is quick enough to come up with something.

“Oh, we’re sorry to hear that dear. It was nice to finally meet you.” Her mother croons sadly while her father gives him a long hard look as if trying to gauge his honesty. James tries to look as contrite about having the bail, and it must work her father stops giving him that disapproving Dad look he kind of has flashes of from before.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he murmurs leaning down to press a kiss to Darcy’s forehead for show before leaving. Not that it keeps him from catching snippets of the brunette’s mother’s comments afterward.

“He’s a keeper Darcy, you better get a ring on it fast.” The older woman advises and James winces internally.

She was helping him out and now he was going to make them hate him without ever having existed in her life prior to that day. Maybe the damage won’t be too bad. Or maybe it will. Does it matter? The chances James was going to see her again were so slim it was laughable that the part of him that has slept for so long almost hopes it’s bad just so there’s some mark that he existed for a brief while outside of HYDRA’s control.

Disappearing into the tree line James allows the asset take over. They might both be trained soldiers, but the asset has 70 years of training and instinct on his side where as James only has World War II and things have changed a great deal since then. And well five on one fights are something of the asset’s specialty. Helps they don’t seem terribly familiar with his capabilities as they seem to be more of an attack in a sequential order than a unified team.

The first to go down is a big muscle-bound guy with blond hair, he liked knives which was fine except the metal arm kept getting in the way. Too many years of using it as a shield in situations like this kept him ahead of the meat head and once, he was down with a hard blow to the back of his head it was short work with most of the others. The last one was giving him the most trouble. He was slim and lithe and quick on his feet. Dancing around the assets attempts to get a hold or do damage the way a dancer might a stage. The easy avoidance brings back memories of Steve after getting rescued from Zola’s clutches.

Memories of them testing their limits against each other when they weren’t raiding Nazi bases. The body kept moving dodging around blows and evading where possible. But he was distracted enough to let the last one in far to close and get a slice into his non-bionic arm. The pain making him howl as he lashes out and catches the final pursuer around the neck with his bionic arm and presses.

The soldier does his best to escape but eventually succumbs to the sleeper hold. The bodies of unconscious soldiers lay littering the clearing. But they’re alive which is both blessing and curse. He didn’t kill Captain America but these men he should kill. When they wake up it won’t matter if the trail has gone cold, they’ll follow what few leads they have, to get to him. It wouldn’t be any different than the war. You killed the enemy before they killed you. The Howling Commandos tried to avoid it but in the initial assault casualties were a given, and these soldiers wouldn’t think twice about grievously wounding him just to get him back to the HYDRA brass.

In the end James runs and doesn’t look back. There is very little worth looking back to even the pretty brunette who gave him a cover for a few hours without a second though. Looking back for her would be the same as signing her death warrant and he couldn’t do that to another person, not after seventy years of doing so without question or thought. She was young and deserved a chance to live her life as she wanted.

Twelve hours after leaving Darcy in the park outside Washington D.C. James boarded a freighter crossing the Atlantic under an alias.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy finds out James is the Winter Soldier. So do her parents. Oops. Sorry Mom?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yo everyone. Well the last chapter got such a good response and I will admit I felt bad that it was so bittersweet. This chapter is all Darcy, as she finds out that the cute lost guy she helped out is an international assassin and terrorist and deals with overprotective momma and overprotective Jane. Sorry guys but no Bucky this chapter, and I'm not sure when exactly he'll make his next appearance. But I promise he'll be back.

Darcy spends the next morning in her hotel room. As much as she loves her family there comes a point in all reunions where she needs to get some space. It’s natural really. As much an extrovert Darcy is, even she finds comfort in staying in her nice warm hotel bed with the fluffiest comforter she has ever found in a hotel for a few extra hours while she debates the worthiness of ordering room service for breakfast instead of joining her cousins at the continental breakfast in the lobby. The kids wouldn’t mind the lack of her. Auntie Darcy is fun, but she is very grumpy without at least two cups of coffee in her and the children know that.

She just spent the last week with her family. She participates in all the required family reunion activities. Weeknight dinners. Cousin’s night which was just an excuse for the parents to ditch their kids on the oldest of the cousins at a Dave & Buster’s while they went out and had drinks. There were aspects she loved but the unpaid babysitting of her cousins that required sobriety while her aunts, uncles, and parents got shitfaced was not one of them. When she wasn’t entertaining her much younger kids with games of skee-ball and air hockey she was texting or watching the news in the bar while nursing cranberry juice.

The TV is on to provide background noise. She’s only half paying attention as she goes through a full mental pros and cons list of the benefits and risks to having French toast with all the fixings for breakfast instead of the seasonal fruit bowl with yogurt. Aside from her belief that the seasonal fruit bowl with yogurt is the most boring breakfast a person could eat. It’s right up there with oatmeal and cream of wheat. It takes a lot doctoring to make any of those items taste good without being loaded with sugar and candy pieces from the commercial instant packages.

She’s just picking up the phone to place her order when the urgent story alert catches her attention.

“We have just received word that international terrorist the Winter Soldier was spotted in the western Maryland area, it is believed he is heading to any major transit hub to get out of the country and avoid capture. Law enforcement agencies are asking the public to call in any sightings to the number at the bottom of your screen. As a reminder the Winter Soldier is considered extremely dangerous and should not be approached if spotted. This is a picture of the terrorist pulled from Washington D.C. CCTV footage at the time of the incident on the Potomac River a week ago.” The phone clatters to the floor as the news anchor continues calmly.

Darcy can’t stop staring at the CCTV cap of the Winter Soldier. The man yesterday wasn’t wearing all the leather and his face held actual emotion unlike the man in the cap. But it was undeniable that they were the same person. With those deep-set eyes, high cheekbones, and strong jaw there was no mistaking James from the day before.

“Authorities ask that the public remain vigilant and report any sightings of the terrorist. Do not approach. They cannot stress how important it is that civilians do not approach.”

“Thank you, Cynthia. Continuing from that story the clean up of the Potomac River continues…”

Darcy tunes out the rest of the news broadcast from there. She remembers the alerts yesterday at the Sixteenth Annual Lewis Family Reunion Field Games Day. They had distracted her through set-up. Enough that her mother had to threaten to take her smartphone like she was just another one of the unruly children rather than a fully-grown adult that was also occasionally a productive member of society. (By Lewis Family standards she was only a productive member of society with a paying job as opposed to an unpaid internship. Apparently, free world travel on Culver’s dime didn’t mean much.)

“Holy shit I kissed the Winter Soldier.” She mumbles already looking for her phone to text Jane.

Digging through the bed and then the pile of clothes on the floor by the foot of the bed she comes up empty. Frowning she looks around the room. Despite her lengthy stay already the room is still near pristine in shape. Her suitcase isn’t spilling its contents everywhere like it would be normally. Her make-up case isn’t sad and empty, her various eyeshadows, glosses, blushes, and other cosmetics left haphazardly on the vanity surface. She even managed to keep from using her laptop in bed, which is a _huge_ accomplishment that deserves sharing with Jane on its own.

Where the hell is her cell phone? Darcy could have sworn she plugged it in and left laying face down on the desk when she got back the night before. There wasn’t anyone she needed to worry about getting in contact with immediately when she turned in for the night. Jane was on the West Coast lecturing about the Convergence still. She would have been there herself if not for the annual reunion that she just _couldn’t_ miss. What does that woman need her for; her mother kept asking when she attempted to beg off politely. She isn’t mad to be there, it was a top-notch hotel they booked her a room in. It was just there was world changing science happening and she wanted to be part of that instead of running as fast as she could in the other direction.

If not for Jane, Darcy would have made up any story to get out of it. Didn’t matter that the lecture tour was ninety percent boring and ten percent watching various universities try to wine and dine Jane away from Culver. She’d invested so much time in getting Jane to function largely as a human she actually feared the woman backsliding for the ten days she’d be in Maryland.

Right now, though she needed to call Jane. Needed to yell and ramble about how she single-handedly accidentally helped the Winter Soldier evade the authorities after the mess with the Triskelion. She could almost hear Jane’s scandalized: “Darcy, how could you?”

Getting on her hands and knees she pushes the duvet out of the way squints into the dark under the bed. Unlike those cheap hotels with the solid bedframe to keep anything from disappearing into the abyss that was the space under the box spring, there was nothing but vast dark emptiness here. She can’t begin to fathom how that happened. Her phone was there in the room, it had to be.

Feeling around blindly, her fingers graze something hard, cool, and plastic.

“There you are,” she mutters using her fingertips to press-pull the phone closer and out from under the bed once she could get it in her hand.

There’re four missed texts all from her mother that she is _not_ looking at right now. Blue eyes flick up to the tv screen that is once more showing James’ face in his Winter Soldier get up on screen. On second thought damage control might be a good idea to do before the rambling.

Taking a deep breath, she calls her mother and presses the phone to her ear. She’s already cringing when her mother picks up.

“Darcy Elizabeth Lewis what were you thinking?” Her mother’s voice is shrill in its question and the pre-cringe lives up to a full one as goosebumps rise on her arms and skate down her neck.

“I didn’t know who he was mom.” She tries pathetically.

The snort that her mother makes says everything very plainly without words, “You are going to call the authorities young lady. Tell them everything you know and then you are coming home with your father and I. Your little internship with Dr. Jane Foster is clearly not making the right introductions for you.”

The terror that bubbles up is immediate. She loves her parents. Loves her family, but there is no way in hell she is going back to Virginia with them to do whatever they want. Though considering the only thing keeping her afloat right now is her parents monthly deposits into her checking account, she’s going to need to find something to do fast to offset the loss of those funds. She had a Netflix account and cell phone data plan that demanded she have money.

“Mom I love you, but I’m not going back to Virginia with you and Dad.” The easy calm her voice holds is a lie. She knows the demand is at least eighty percent fear talking but it doesn’t change that this conversation was coming one way or another. Her family was well off enough that Darcy wanting to major in Political Science has always been something of a joke at family functions. Her lack of athleticism the only thing to top it.

“Yes, you are young lady. We’ve let you run around after that woman more than long enough." Her mother cries in that tone that screams she isn't going to hear any argument to the contrary. The tone she uses when she wants to remind Darcy of just how badly she's failing to accomplish all her parents expect of her.

Darcy only sighs and shakes her head as she sinks to the floor at the foot of the hotel bed. "Mom I'm not and I don't care what you threaten me with. For once in my life I'm doing something that actually matters."

"That's what you said when you tried being vegetarian dear. This is not the same. You are reporting your sighting of that terrorist and you're coming home and that is final." Her mother doesn't wait to hear Darcy acquiesce. She just assumes her daughter will, because in the past that is exactly what Darcy did. She gave in.

But this time she wasn't doing that. She was almost thirty years old for crying out loud. Yes she had plenty of student loan debt because she refused to let her parents pay for her college. Smart move on her part because it gave her the freedom to pursue what she wanted and not a degree pre-chosen by her parents.

Not that technically her parents would have had any say in what she majored but there would have been many hard-core guilt sessions of how she wasn't living up to their dreams for her and living to less than she was capable of by not becoming a doctor or lawyer. Can she say ew?

Political Science was a perfectly respectable degree that had the potential to change the world and she liked it. Even though it was minorly useless and unnecessary for her at this point. She was working in hard sciences now, not the theoretical. Not the social sciences. Ironic really given how hard she rebelled at the idea of going into med school.

Heaving a breath Darcy thumbed through her contacts and called Jane. Once it was ringing in her ear, she pushed up onto her feet again. Blue eyes scanning for the first order of business.

"Hey Jane, is that ticket still open for me to fly out to California?" Darcy started without waiting for a greeting or bleary hello.

"Darcy?" Jane questions the sleep thick in her voice as her words and voice sink in past the sleep fog.

"Yeah it's me. I need a quick exit from the reunion."

There's a pause as Jane parses that out then a breath, "Of course it's still available. What happened?"

Darcy hesitates as she starts shoving clothes into her suit case. Chewing on her lip she debates how much is safe to tell Jane over the phone. Technically speaking anyone could be listening. It wasn't like they were having a call over a secure line. Not that she had access to one if she needed one.

"Have you seen the news lately?" she hedges trapping her phone between her shoulder and ear as she starts packing her make up back into its five different cosmetic cases. Why on Earth did she pack so much stuff for ten days of family drama?

"I saw the reports about the helicarriers crashing into the Potomac and I've heard reports of intelligence leaks from the suit wearing monkeys."

"Intelligence leaks? Never mind you can tell me when I get there. Anyway, I uh may have put myself a little in the middle of some of the aftermath and mom is going ballistic." She says fighting with a stubborn eyeliner that does not want to go back into the case and instead stick straight up and blocking the zipper.

"You put yourself in the middle. I would never think you would do such a thing." The sarcasm is so obvious that Darcy rolls her eyes.

"Yeah yeah. Look can you just make arrangements for me to be able to pick up the ticket and I'll fill you on the rest later?" She tosses her hair brush in the back along with the partial zipped case and the four others.

"Of course. I'll try and get you on the first flight out but no promises with such late notice. You going to be okay?" The concern is real and full understanding of what Darcy was up against here.

It takes twenty minutes for Darcy to finish packing her crap up enough that she feels comfortable dragging it out into the hall with her. If she's lucky no one will try to come visit her before she's in a cab on her way to the airport. Jane still hasn't texted her back with flight details but even if she doesn't have them before arriving at Hagerstown, she can wait at the ticket counters for a bit before anyone starts looking at her funny.

She at the least has all her necessities for her quick flight both literal and figurative from the hotel. She's wheeling up to the elevators at the midpoint of the floor when they ding, doors trundling open, as her cousin Dan comes walking out looking very much like he just spent two hours wrangling their youngest cousin Jessica on a sugar high. He takes one look at her frozen in place and then at her suitcase and smiles at her.

"Can't blame you, your mom was on a tear when she got down to breakfast ten minutes ago. If you're quick you should be able to catch a cab before she even notices you literally flew through the lobby."

"Oh god she was actually going on about our fight as acceptable breakfast conversation?" Darcy asks horrified that her mother who was usually the example of prim and proper was ranting at breakfast.

"You have a way of getting under her skin. Now give me a hug and text me when you arrive safe or you'll never escape her clutches she is determined to keep you here and drag you to Virginia. Uncle Tom is doing is best to calm her but she's not hearing a word right now."

"God bless dad," she murmurs shuffling forward and giving her cousin a one-armed hug. "Thanks Dan I owe you one okay?"

"Careful Darce I might just hold you to that."

"I wouldn't expect otherwise you're insufferable when someone owes you a favor." She teases hitting the down button.

"Yeah I know. Be safe and maybe try to avoid meeting anymore international terrorists?"

"I'll try, but no promises you know how it is." She's infinitely happier when she boards the elevator alone with her suitcase as it heads down to the lobby. Darcy hopes that her cousin was right though as she worries her lip to avoid fidgeting with her phone in her pocket. Last thing she wanted was to be caught unaware of who was waiting when the doors opened.

Thankfully, when the elevator reached the lobby the only people waiting to go up the stairs were newcomers and strangers. The faces all unfamiliar to her as she hurried out of the hotel and to the waiting cabs out front. If this wasn't a big tourist hotel with need for frequent cab traffic, she didn't know what she was going to do about getting out of there unseen.

Stuffing her luggage into the trunk she gets into the passenger seat.

"Hagerstown airport please." She says by way of greeting and settles back into the crunching pleather bench seat. This cab had clearly seen better days, but at least it didn't stink. There weren't any unwanted aromas wafting from the seats or an overabundance of air fresheners hanging from the rearview mirror like good luck charms.

The cabbie nods and smoothly merges with oncoming traffic. Darcy doesn't talk much on the trip to the airport. Her attention to fixed firmly on her iPhone waiting for the inevitable phone call. When it comes with a screaming wail of her mother's standard ring tone Darcy swipes the ignore call button and offers an apologetic smile to the cabbie.

"Sorry that's going to happen a couple more times before she stops." And like clockwork it happens again and once more Darcy swipes ignore.

The phone rings four more times before it stops ringing incessantly only to chirp almost ten minutes later with a voicemail notification.

"Everything alright miss?" the cabbie asks.

"Yeah it's fine. Just family drama. It'll be fine once I get home." Ironic that home has turned into whatever hotel Jane is staying at or the lab as opposed to the place her parents raised her. It isn't even the small cramped apartment she shares with four other people off campus.

The cabbie frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that miss. I hope it's nothing serious."

She shakes her head, "just a difference of opinion. It'll be fine." Darcy hopes it will be anyway.

She and the cabbie lapse into silence once more and remain that way for the remainder of the trip. She's just pulling her suitcase out of the trunk having paid the driver when her phone gives a clip of the X-Files theme song. Jane had finally come through.

Waving goodbye she heads into the airport while reading the message and types out a quick thanks before getting in line for her airline. The line was long, and people looked so _thrilled_ to be there that she could just imagine how not fun standing in this line was going to be. Since she has nothing better to do, she goes through the mental checklist for prohibited items as she waits. Better to save the phone battery for when she will undoubtedly be sitting by the gate bored out of her mind.

Satisfied she hadn't picked up anything that she couldn't bring on the plane in the last twenty-four hours she sighs leaning on her suitcase. It was a damn good thing that Jane couldn't get her a flight for another three hours because this line was murder on her feet and now, she had to use the bathroom, but she refused to get out of line until she was at least through security. Then it wouldn't be such a big deal.

It takes nearly forty-five minutes of playing I, Spy with herself to reach the airlines ticket counter. She smiles brightly at the attendant at the counter.

"Hi I'm picking up a ticket for Darcy Lewis." She says digging out her drivers license for the woman to pull up her information and check her in.

"ID please," the woman says simply, and Darcy slide the thin piece of plastic over.

Keys click and then her ID is returned to her.

"Your flight will depart from Gate B-15. Boarding will begin thirty minutes before the flight please be present at your gate and present your boarding pass when your row is called so you can board promptly. Will you be checking any luggage?” The attendant asks leaning forward to see if there were any suitcases or travel cases by Darcy’s feet.

“Yes, just a suitcase.” Darcy grips the handle anticipating being told to put it on the scale between computer terminals.

“Place it on the scale.”

Once her bag is weighed and tagged, she watches the attendant add it to the conveyor belt rolling behind her. She offers the woman a smile and takes her boarding pass to get through security. It takes far less time than she expected and once through security she makes her way for her gate.

In a few more hours she’d be on the west coast and where she wanted to be instead of a place she was just tolerating because it was expected she be there as a Lewis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took literally forever. I started an outline for the whole fic about halfway through the chapter (yes I know outlines should happen before not during but I originally intended for this to be a oneshot), I'm still not keen on what I'm thinking is going to be the chapter count. Mostly because I'm not sure if it's enough or not. We'll see how things progress. I have ideas for how this ends. A little playing with canon, and events and well you'll see what I mean.
> 
> Bucky is in this chapter. He's actually like one third to half the chapter. I was missing him and as much as I love Jane and Darcy doing the science thing, this fic is as much exploration into Bucky in the immediate aftermath of escaping HYDRA as telling a partial love story. Anyway, I'm going to stop blathering and let you get to the fic now. Enjoy.

It takes almost ten hours, but Darcy is in California. She feels a little gross, more than a little groggy having just woken up from a nap that lasted the last ninety minutes of the flight. Her phone is clinging to the last of its charge and the baggage carousel is refusing to cough up her suitcase.

"There you are. I thought we were meeting outside?" A soft voice says touching her shoulder.

Blinking to refocus her eyes Darcy smiles when she sees the familiar long brown hair and thin face. The woman before her is the one she's been dying to see since fleeing Maryland. Throwing her arms around the slight woman she hugs her tight.

"Jane I am so happy to see you and I have so much to tell you, but first we need to find my suitcase. The stupid carousel is refusing to give it up." She's not crying she swears. It's just her eyes leaking because she may have made the mistake of listening to her voicemails the third time, she saw the same purple duffle bag pass her by.

The ten-minute monologue from her mother was not a fun listen. It was a god damn terrible listen and she was going to need a lot of vodka when they got to the hotel.

"Okay. It's okay," Jane murmurs petting Darcy's hair, brown eyes scanning the carousel for the bright pink suitcase she knows Darcy took with her to Maryland.  "You can tell me all about it when we get to the hotel. I left a note to do a full restock of the minibar while I was out."

"Janey you are a lifesaver," Darcy cries pulling away from her friend and giving her a wobbly smile. She can practically feel her mascara running down her face and she wishes she couldn't.

"Eesh Darcy go get yourself cleaned up and hopefully when you come back, I'll have your suitcase. Kay?" Jane says nodding toward the lady’s bathroom after taking one look at her former intern turned best friend.

"Okay," Darcy agrees and lets the crowd swallow, Jane, as she heads to the lady’s bathroom.

One look in the mirror and oh boy did she ever need a shower, concealer, and at least four more hours of sleep. There was no way around the sudden appearance of puffy purple bags under her eyes. And there was no way her glasses could cover them up even if they were big and thick because of her prescription.

Snagging some papers towels she sets her travel bag on the counter and washes her face, scrubbing off the worst of the running mascara until her cheeks were a bright red and she looked like she just got slapped by two of the Three Stooges. Thank god for her emergency make-up kit or she never would have been able to get presentable again. A liberal application of tinted moisturizer, concealer, and blush later and Darcy looked more human, but nothing could hide the puffiness of the bags or her eyes now that she stopped crying.

Slinging her bag back over her shoulder Darcy heads back to Jane. Who is actually standing outside the bathroom with one eye-searing hot pink suitcase at her side.

"Look what I found," Jane says when Darcy comes out.

"Oh thank god my contacts and back up glasses are in there not to mention the whole rest of my life."

"It got loaded onto the wrong carousel. It was on its last pass before going to forgotten and lost luggage."

"And that would have taken way too long to get sorted out again. Glad you found it before it disappeared into the airport black hole."

"Any time. Let's go or we'll hit traffic and I really don't want to hit traffic. And you can talk to me about what set your mom off in the car and you can tell me the gory details of the aftermath in the hotel."

Linking their arms together and grabbing the handle of the suitcase, Jane leads them out of the arrivals portion of the airport and into the parking lot. They cross the busy lanes of traffic to the parking garage for pickups. The rental is on the third level and when Darcy is settled in the front seat she sighs happily at the level of comfort in the seat.

"This is so much better the van in New Mexico. Jane, why can't you have a car like this when off the lecture tour circuit too?"

"Because," Jane starts as she puts the key in the ignition and starts the car, "I need to be able to haul all of my equipment without it breaking itself in transport."

"Eh, it's held together almost entirely by duct tape anyways what's the difference."

"The difference is some of it I can't find replacement parts for anymore and I don't want to have to make it from scratch all over again."

"It might be better."

"You're supposed to be telling me about what set your mom off Darce." Jane reminds as they exit the garage and merge with the traffic bound for the highway back into the city.

The sun was setting already. It felt like only hours ago she was getting up for the day. Now it was almost time for bed, and she was without a doubt not tired thanks to that nap she took. That was ill-advised. Settling deeper into her seat Darcy sighs.

"So yesterday we were in the park doing our annual field day at the reunion. It's sort of like our closing ceremony you know. One last ridiculous event to torture the unathletic with before we all get on planes and go back to living our lives in different parts of the country."

"Okay, that doesn't sound so bad. How did that lead up to your mom going ballistic?"

Turning her attention out the window Darcy doesn't answer immediately. It's going to sound crazy. Jane might even yell at her for basically doing a little of what she did when they met Thor in the desert of New Mexico.

"This guy comes wandering in looking all lost. He didn't look dangerous. Just confused and like he could use some help. At first no one notices him you know. Dan's busy chewing Michael's ear off about something or other and mom and dad are trying to get the grill going for lunch. But I see him. I notice. So I go up to him say hi and ask if he needs any help."

"Tell me you didn't," Jane demands taking her eyes off the road and giving Darcy a horrified look. That was exactly the reaction she was expecting from her friend. Apparently, even at twenty-seven years old she still wasn't supposed to offer to help lost looking strangers with her entire family present to keep her from getting kidnapped.

"Jane you took in and semi-kidnapped a suspected psych patient with violent tendencies all because I pointed out his outline in your scans of the Einstein Rosen Bridge. You don't get to judge on this one."

Her friend didn't get to judge her for this. This was one thing where the bonds of friendship just didn't get to have any of that power. Especially when Thor was literally spouting nonsense when they met him. James was lucid and could carry a conversation and he was yelling for a mystical hammer.

"Okay sorry, continue," Jane says in a tone that says there will be judgment plenty of silent judgment that she would voice later.

"He says yes and that's when mom notices him. She called me asking if I know him and I just give him this big apologetic smile and turn to mom and introduce him as my boyfriend James."

At that Jane coughs hard clearly judging and not bothering to cover it up.

"You want some water that cough sounds terrible," Darcy deadpans.

"No no I'm fine so then what?"

"Mom gets all bright-eyed and elated. Goes on and on about finally I was getting on with my life and separating myself from that looney scientist I work with."

"Loony scientist. Please tell me you're joking."

"Nope do you want me to tell the story or not?"

Traffic was slowing to a crawl despite their rush to get on the road once she was cleaned up. Apparently, California traffic was going to be bad no matter time of day and this was no exception. She watches as a couple cars in front of them, two cars battle it out on a lane merging.

"So he sticks around plays boyfriend. I think he was there for almost all afternoon portion of the festivities. I make up a story about him having a demanding job and that's why I didn't mention he might be joining us. But mostly we hang back out of the thick of things where possible. Only talking when we need to be, you know normal stuff. Finally, it's time for the three-legged race. Mind you haven't won that race since I was a kid because I always get partnered with someone uncoordinated. He practically carries me through the straight course and then keeps running. When he finally stops everyone is watching us just standing there unsure of what just happened because I just won for the first time in a decade and I won by a mile."

Taking advantage of the near crawl they were moving at Jane raises an eyebrow at Darcy, "That's it that's all that caused your mom's meltdown?"

She blushes, "Well there was a celebratory kiss. But what really got her was the news this morning."

Refocusing inside the car instead of out, Darcy watches as the realization hits Jane and braces for the less than stellar reaction.

"Tell me you didn't introduce the Winter Soldier to your whole family as your boyfriend." Jane nearly shouts.

"Wish I could boss lady," she says meekly slouching in her seat.

"I can't believe you would do something so stupid."

"I didn't know he was the winter soldier at the time. He wasn't wearing the weird jacket and his metal arm was covered up well. And he actually wore facial expressions instead of permanent bitch face."

"Darcy I can't believe you’re making justifications for him. You were in his company for what five hours? Did he have super pheromones that brainwashed you?"

"Did you really just make a me kind of joke in your frustration?" Darcy's eyes widen at the possibility.

"Ugh," Jane growls before looking back at the road drumming her nails angrily on the steering wheel.

Well if that was how she was going to be, Darcy digs into her bag to find her earbuds and decides now is a very opportune time to sacrifice the rest of her phone battery for a distraction. The silence stretches and that’s okay. She understands why Jane can’t believe what she’s hearing. Aside from that moment of bad decision making during the Convergence, Darcy generally makes smart decisions.

Or at least the decisions least likely to get her killed. Either way, right now she’s content to let Jane blow off steam by yelling at traffic and bad drivers. It was safer for both of them.

\--

While Darcy is escaping the clutches of her family, James is on his trek back to Europe. He isn’t sure what else to call himself, so he keeps with James. He told the brunette she hit the nail on the head because it seemed right at the time, but right now in his cramped cabin with very little light he couldn’t be sure of that.

There were whole hours of the day where he questions what he remembers. Questions its validity and reality. Maybe it was a fake memory that they gave him. There was no way of knowing. But the time at sea was easily the worst part of his sudden freedom from cryostasis. The first night wasn’t too bad, he didn’t sleep much preferring to watch to lone entrance to his cabin from the far corner in the dark.

He joined the other handful of passengers for breakfast because it seemed expected. And he was hungry. He didn’t remember the last time he was hungry but there was a gnawing sensation in his stomach that only seemed to subside when he ate something. It was strange eating again normally they pumped him full of nutrients by IV after removing him from cryo.

The second night isn’t nearly as calm. Despite his best efforts, he drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep. Memories flash of a fall and pain. A man in glasses with a heavy accent speaks to him in another informing him they’ve already begun.

He startles awake with a strangled cry on his lips. There’s a knock on his door shortly after the reverberations fade from the metal walls. Slightly disoriented James goes to the door and stares blearily at one of the crew dressed for sleep much like him.

“Everything okay?” the man asks with a heavy accent.

“Yes,” he croaks back with a sharp nod, strands of hair falling in his face.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It’s fine. Sorry if I woke you or anyone else.” He apologizes hunching his shoulders trying to look a little less hulking there in the heavy metal doorway.

For a moment the man watches him, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he assesses whether to leave the soldier to his solitude or push the issue. Finally, after what feels like hours have passed standing there the man nods and walks away leaving James to watch him turn passed a bulkhead before closing and bolting the door.

It’s probably nothing but he his instincts are screaming that he needs to be on guard now.

He spends the second day at sea holed up in his cabin. It seems better than venturing out. His stomach protests but he’s gone longer without food and he can make it a little longer. It’s easy enough to forget that he’s hungry as he lives flashes of his time with the man on the bridge. Moments that he shouldn’t remember but he does. Many of them involving him watching his back through the scope of a sniper rifle.

The night passes silently as he refuses to sleep preferring to keep watch instead.

It’s nearly halfway into the voyage before he has another episode. He’s returning from getting breakfast when the memory of killing his handlers in the bank vault assaults him as the Widow had. His steps faltering as he grips the railing hard to keep from face-planting into the deck. It comes on so fast that it leaves him breathless, frozen in place much like when they would put him back on ice after he’d completed his task.

His right-hand feels slippery for a moment like blood still clings to his fingers despite having long since washed away the blood. He can hear the sick gurgling as one of the handlers chokes on his own blood in his final moments. They trained him too well. They should be proud. Or disappointed is more accurate the cold analytical part of his brain they instilled in him for missions’ debates as he gasps for air. If he doesn’t get some soon, he feels like his blood might boil right out of his body because everything suddenly feels so hot.

And then the physical manifestations of his sudden jolt pass just as quickly as they come and he’s kneeling on the deck catching his breath. Blue eyes scan the area looking for dangers, threats waiting to take advantage of his condition. Upon finding none some of the tension drains from his shoulders as he once more disappears into his cabin.

Two days later he dreams of the park outside of DC where he met the tiny brunette. Her smile and the mischievous glint in her eyes as they go to participate in the three-legged race at her family reunion. It’s a peaceful memory that leaves his stomach clenched in want when he wakes. His hands reaching for a body that isn’t there and would never be.

The ninth day is harder less peaceful. He gets flashes of the Howling Commandoes as he gets his lunch. They eat with him, ask him questions he can’t possibly answer because they’re talking about things that are both familiar and strange at the same time. An Asian man fiddles with a radio, a French man plants a bomb under his table and James crushes his fork in his metal hand to keep from flipping the table in front of everyone.

A black man and a heavily moustached blond shoot up the entire room. They dog his steps as he heads to the deck to run laps. He finds that his conflicting memories are easier to deal with when he’s active instead of hiding in his room praying for them to leave him alone. He’s run around the entire ship twenty times before he realizes that they’ve walked away back inside and out of the cold Atlantic air.

The worst comes in the night before they’re set to dock. He’s remembered other missions since the man on the bridge. Snippets here and flashes there. All of them horrible, bodies of children and adults. What they did to deserve death questionable. But this nightmare is worse than remembering the scientist taking his arm. Her metal fist putting a dent into the wall as he screams with the images that return.

A car he runs off the road all so he can steal the cargo the driver is transporting. But it’s not the theft that bothers him, it’s the who. The driver knows him. Addresses him by name in a shocked horror that never registered at the time. But it registers now, and a name comes unbidden to the forefront of his troubled mind.

_Howard Stark._

He doesn’t cry so much as shut down the knocking dying shortly after it begins. He needs off the boat now. He searches out the clock built into the cabin wall and settles in to wait for the docking to start. Watches the sunrise through the tiny porthole window in pinks, oranges, and reds that remind him of blood as much as peace and quiet and beauty.

Not for the first time, James wishes he hadn’t begun to remember, but there’s nothing he can do to stop it now. Not after he went to the museum specifically to find out what the man the bridge meant and who he thought the soldier was. There’s no undoing what is already done, he can only move forward now.

\--

When the tip finds its way to Sam, he spends hours verifying information before even thinking of taking it to Steve. After meeting Natasha, seeing the Winter Soldier and his buddies in action and learning the Alexander Pierce was another member of HYDRA; caution seemed like a good idea before sharing. And he didn’t want Steve getting his hopes up. There’s a determination to how he moves that wasn’t quite there before he knew Bucky was physically still alive. What was left of his friend was a different matter that they would have to take a wait and see approach on.

Since Tony Stark was gracious enough to allow them use of the upper floors of Stark Tower as Avenger’s headquarters Sam and Steve were spending a lot more time in New York. Sam chasing and verifying leads before going to Steve. And Steve spent an awful lot of his time in the gym. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Steve was overcompensating for allowing Bucky to slip through his fingers. But it probably had more to do with his need to be moving, doing something. When there was SHIELD it sounded like he had regular missions to see to.

In the aftermath of Project Insight, missions were fewer and farther between. The Avengers couldn’t just appear in any situation. It went against all kinds of sovereignty laws and treaties. Tearing down SHIELD had consequences for Steve that he hadn’t foreseen but he was living within them as best he could until the Avengers were needed. And judging by the appearance of some of the core members returning (sadly there was still a lack of a snarky redhead in the hall) he was going to get his wish before long.

It took a few hours to verify the information was good. Once Sam did his due diligence, he left his “office” (it was a closet thank you for saying so Tony) and caught an elevator to the gym floor. The ride is quick and quiet as the car never stopped on its way down. Seemed like one of those rare moments where the other support staff had better things to do than ride the elevator all day.

The gym was quiet save for the soft hisses of breath and grunts as Steve works over a heavy bag in the center of the floor. The blond doesn’t appear to have noticed his entrance, but that doesn’t mean much. Steve seems to have a pretty good idea of when others around. Not that Sam minds him choosing to finish his workout, he understands that. The focus made Steve a good leader, finish one task move on to the next. There was room for flexibility, but the core objectives always remained. Grabbing a seat on one of the benches along the wall he settles in to wait.

Fifteen minutes later, and Steve pauses and glances Sam’s way. The heavy bag giving a quaking groan as it swings on its hook. Sam grins as he gets up approaching the super soldier.

“Got some news,” he interrupts before Steve can return to beating the stuffing out of the bag.

Steve wipes the sweat from his forehead, head tilting to the side as he focuses his attention on Sam, “You found him?”

“Not quite. But I have found a few reports of a man fitting his description being spotted in a park in Maryland that fits the rough timeline we’ve worked up for what happened after he pulled you from the river.”

It’s not a perfect match but it’s close. Too close and lends credence to the idea that he made to leave the country as quick as possible afterward. They already found evidence that he’d visited the Howling Commando exhibit at the Smithsonian shortly after the helicarriers blew themselves out of the sky. This just followed that line of possibility. There was a report of a multiple victim assault at the Ideal Federal Savings Bank in DC around that time that best they could tell was Bucky removing his handlers from the equation. But after that, they’d been struggling for what happened next.

“What was he doing there?” Steve asks walking to the cooler to get a Gatorade while he was on an impromptu break.

“Based on eyewitness accounts participating in a family reunion.”

“That doesn’t make sense he’s the only one left alive.”

“Well, that’s what reports say. Want me to look into it more?” Sam offers.

“Yeah, it’s the best lead we’ve had since we started,” Steve agrees.

“On it. I’ll let you know if I can confirm that it was him.”

Sam starts to leave. He gets halfway to the door when Steve speaking makes him pause.

“Thanks, Sam.”

“No problem.”

\--  
  
The docking and departure takes time. Time James doesn’t want to give to the authorities to discover he didn’t have the appropriate paperwork to enter the country. His trip across the Atlantic hadn’t been spent entirely holed up hiding from the other passengers and crew. He’d made it a point to know the ship like the back of his hand to fill the hours. It helped.

Stealing off the ship once it was docked was almost too easy. The port security woefully pathetic in their vigilance. In the dockyard James survey’s, the cars parked in the employee parking lot and selects the most likely one to be easily accessible. His steps are quick across the packed dirt in the cool gray morning, getting into the car is easy and he settles behind the wheel and pops the steering column open.

His fingers make quick work of hotwiring the vehicle and as the engine purrs to life he shifts into gear and pulls out of the spot. His focus shifting between the road ahead and the one behind for signs of pursuit. No one notices as he takes the road toward London. The reasoning eludes him, but he isn’t going to fight with instinct.

London is dark when he parks the car in a lot. He stretches awkwardly in the car and gets out. He doesn’t look back at the now useless vehicle as he stuffs his hands in his jeans pockets and walks down the quiet street. He wants to avoid the main drag but needs to go for the opportunity to get money and until he can come up with some form of documentation, he’d have to pickpockets. Luckily, HYDRA had seen to training him in such things over the years. He might be their most prolific assassin, but a little sleight of hand didn’t hurt to know.

He joins the moving crowd and makes his way through people plucking wallets from purses and pockets, jewelry from throats and wrists and just as easily disappearing into the crowd before his targets notice what happened. There’s a pawn shop that doesn’t ask questions that he takes the pilfered watches and jewelry too.

“Be right with you,” an elderly man calls from the back when the bells over the door chime with James’ entrance.

Casting his gaze about he takes in the different cases, the positions of the cameras. He doesn’t hear the tell-tale whir of tape recording, but many places have gone digital in the last couple of decades. He bows his head to be safe and is once again glad for the glove hiding the shine of his metal hand.

“Sorry about that what can I help you with?” the old man asks wiping his hands on a cloth as he comes forward. There are grease stains on his pants and dirt under his nails, his smile crooked but his eyes are sharp as he looks James over. A serious assessment that doesn’t miss a beat of what the soldier is trying to hide.

“I’d like to sell a few items,” he rasps pulling the watches and necklaces from his pocket one at a time and laying them carefully on the counter.

The man looks them over then again at James. He shrugs and begins a more thorough perusal of the merchandise laid out on his glass display case. There’s fear building in his belly while the man does his work. Fear that this is taking too long though he has fractured memories of tales of the proprietor being one to purposely draw out the inspection to see if he can make you betray anything about how you came to be in possession of whatever you were selling.

None of that would work on him. He was trained to maintain stillness. And while it didn’t have quite the machine-like edge it did when he didn’t remember, he is adept at feigning calm while he waits. It reminds him of hours on his belly eye to a rifle scope watching the backs of the Howling Commandos. At the thought he has to fight the smile tugging at his lips, there are good feelings associated with that thought. Feelings he won’t be able to explore until later when he’s safe for the night. But not here.

Finally, the man sighs and looks up putting the last piece down. “I can give you three-hundred pounds for all this.”

James nods, “Okay.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence where the owner seems shocked that he doesn’t argue or attempt to haggle. He’s about to open his mouth to do that when the owner chuckles and nods his head.

“Right this way,” he motions to the register. He writes a receipt for the merchandise to keep him above board before ringing numbers into the register and counting out bills and lays them flat on the counter.

“Thanks,” James says slipping the money off the counter and putting it into his pocket.

“Come back any time.” The owner offers and James nods again turning away and walking out of the shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
